


love and mosquito bites

by justlikeswitchblades



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, jack bottoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 08:17:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6898171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikeswitchblades/pseuds/justlikeswitchblades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first time in Bitty’s life, “pleasant” and “Fourth of July” sound vaguely sensible when accompanying each other, and he couldn’t be more happy about it. Madisonian residents over seventy are starting to believe that global warming isn’t a hoax, which is fantastic.</p><p>But, more importantly, Jack is in town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love and mosquito bites

**Author's Note:**

> WADDUP i really dislike tagging top/bottom roles and am purely using "jack bottoms" as a descriptor for positions here. some people might prefer reading fic where jack doesn't have bitty's dick in him. that's fine by me. i just want us all to have a good time and also recognize that dominance/submission stereotypes are kinda bullshit. :)
> 
> this was actually inspired by "he can tell i ain't missing no meals/come through and fuck him in my automobile" and ended up being a loooot tamer, but i hope you enjoy reading it either way!! \o/

Madison is a town that never really changes. There are certain fixtures that are almost a part of Bitty himself, like the small candy shop just off the main drag downtown, and the way summer tends to smother its citizens in seemingly endless waves of sweat, humidity, and heat.

But this summer is shaping up to be different. Some nights, the temperature threatens to drop into the fifties. For the first time in Bitty’s life, “pleasant” and “Fourth of July” sound vaguely sensible when accompanying each other, and he couldn’t be more happy about it. The residents over seventy are starting to believe that global warming isn’t a hoax, but more importantly, Jack is in town, and Bitty likes to think that he’s brought something reminiscent of a cool breeze alongside him.

Jack insists that it does, in fact, get warm in Montreal from time to time. 

The fact that he brought more than one flannel with him when traveling to the American South in the summertime betrays him.

Still, the air around them isn’t as stagnant as expected, and they've made a nest of blankets in the bed of Bitty’s pickup truck, cuddled up close, with Jack sporting his familiar red-and-black checkers. Parked near a large elm a way’s off from the closest one-lane road, the dark around them is lit only by the aged fluorescents of a camping lantern and muted booms of red, white, and blue.

Bitty wishes he could enjoy it, and certainly, he does. But there’s also a part of him that’s babbling on about nothing. About fireworks, how _this is probably the first time you’ve seen them,_ and then he’s spouting something about _Canada Day_ and _wait those New Year’s broadcasts tend to be international don’t they._

He knows it's silly, being nervous around Jack when he's known him for almost two years now, when they've been texting and Skyping nearly every night since his graduation. But seeing him in person for the first time in weeks, knowing that he's no longer his teammate, his housemate, but his _boyfriend_ —the feeling bubbles up in little pockets, a quiet strain of hiccups amidst the overwhelming joy. It manifests in run-on sentences and a near inability to keep his mouth shut, which is starting to get on his own nerves, in all honesty.

“Bittle,” Jack laughs low and fond in his ear as he squeezes his shoulder, “I know I'm not American, but most people try watching the fireworks when they're going off.”

“Right,” Bitty breathes, eyes fixing on the bursts of color, spine rigid. Jack’s fingers rub small circles into his skin. Lee Greenwood is crooning patriotically in the distance—it's not his favorite genre, and far from his favorite song, but it's familiar. Soon enough, he finds himself smiling, relaxing against Jack’s chest. 

“...I'm liking Madison so far,” Jack says after a moment, eyes flicking down to Bitty’s, who now has to look away from the fireworks show to meet his gaze, “It’s nice.”

“You chastise me for talking, and now this? C’mon, Jack. No fair.”

“Sorry,” He grins, sliver of white teeth showing, “We're a little farther away from the noise than I expected.”

“Oh, you know I was just teasing. I’m surprised you've gotten a good impression in just under a day and a half, though—I figured it would've took a little longer to get used to.”

“Me too,” Jack leans in, letting his lips brush against his forehead, “But with you around, Bits, it’s hard to not feel at home.”

Bitty beams under his touch, snuggling closer, “Aw, sweetheart…”

He tilts his head up, pecking his cheek in return. Jack looks back to the fireworks, a shock of magenta illuminating his features, a carefree smile resting on his lips. The smile fades after a moment, though, and his brows push together when he peeks at Bitty.

“...I know we've been talking all the time, but it's not weird to say I've missed you...is it?”

Bitty purses his lips just a little, mulling over the question. “I…don't suppose it's too strange? I mean, I can’t say I haven’t missed you, either.”

“Long distance isn't fun, Jack,” He continues, placing a hand over the one around his shoulder, “Having to keep this secret isn't always fun. But knowing that you feel the same way that I feel about you...for me, Jack, that's more than enough.” 

Bitty goes quiet as he looks up at Jack. He lifts a hand, letting his fingers amble along his cheekbones and jaw before finally cupping his cheek properly, palm warm against his skin. Jack feels his chest get tight, and he struggles to take a breath. But his eyes are clear and unblinking all the way through, exercising patience until Bitty finally leans in, his lips pressing against his with a slow, careful kind of confidence that feels nothing less than grounding.

“...You keep telling me that I was your first kiss, but holy hell, Bits, sometimes you make that hard to believe.”

“It’s true!” Bitty exclaims with a laugh, throwing back his head, “But I imagined kissing you a lot, so, that might've helped?”

“Seems like it,” Jack gives his head a small shake, almost in disbelief, “Or maybe you're just naturally talented.” There's a raise of an eyebrow, a mischievous inflection in his voice, and he places his lips against Bitty’s in a fluid motion, kissing him and maybe even feeling somewhat— _suave?_ —because of it. Bitty is wide-eyed and a faint pink when he pulls away, and Jack can only really think to chuckle awkwardly, lifting his eyes to watch a whizzing trail of light burst into sparks of gold above them.

“Okay. I, uh, don't know where that came from.”

“I wouldn't mind trying to find out,” Bitty marvels in quiet awe, and Jack blinds, dumbfounded as his eyes snap back to him. 

Bitty moves first, eyes half-lidded as he pecks a small kiss at the corner of Jack's mouth, and Jack lets his eyelids flutter to a close, lips tingling in anticipation until Bitty’s finally kisses him properly once more. His lips are soft and warm and just a little wet, kissing and nipping and sucking at Jack’s until he's got one hand around the back of his neck, the other pawing gently at his chest, and a knee between his thighs, pressing ever so slightly into his crotch. 

Jack isn't sure he knows how to _think_ when Bitty finally pulls away.

“Shit,” He exhales softly, his voice strangled, “That wasn't even with tongue.”

Bitty laughs. Their foreheads bump together as his hand slides up Jack's chest, joining the other at his neck, “I'm not so sure about how good I'll do there, honey, but I'm glad you're looking forward to it.”

“Bittle, I haven't kissed anyone in years,” Jack remarks, placing a hand on Bitty’s waist, “It’s new for me, too.”

Bitty frowns in mock offense, “So you're saying you have low standards.”

“If I did, you've probably raised the bar pretty high just in the past few minutes, eh?” 

Jack’s fingers fall away from his waist, and he keeps his eyes trained on Bitty’s as he takes a hold of his thigh, helping him straddle him fully. Bitty’s Adam’s apple bobs with a swallow, but he stares back, smile twitching at the corner of his mouth as he lets himself be moved. The hairs on Bitty’s thigh are soft and ticklish, and Jack bites his lip, thumb dipping under the thin mesh of his athletic shorts.

“We could always, uh, go back to watching the fi—”

He swallows down the word as Bitty cuts him off with a firm kiss. A chuckle manages to escape when they separate, briefly, and Bitty takes his lower lip in his teeth, grinning as he gives it a small tug. Then, he presses close, taking the chance to push his tongue past his lips. He stalls for a second, but Jack is quick to respond, prodding his tongue with his own. Bitty gets the message, and he licks into his mouth, over his tongue and teeth. His movements grow a little less tentative, and Jack smiles, string of saliva snapping back against his chin when Bitty pulls away.

“Not bad,” he tells him, giving his thigh an affirming squeeze, “Though a little more practice probably wouldn't hurt.”

“Wish you were that supportive when we practiced checking,” Bitty murmurs, kissing down his jawline, and Jack breathes out a laugh, angling his head back for him.

“Yeah, well—” Bitty’s lips are on his neck now, and he takes a breath, wetting his lips with his tongue. 

“Bits, wait a sec.”

Bitty pulls back, features apologetic. “Is this going too far? I’m sorry, we don’t have to—”

“No,” Jack interrupts, “No, just…” He exhales, pausing to shrug his flannel off, then pulls his undershirt over his head, dropping them to the side. “Don't want to make any marks your parents might see, y’know?”

Bitty blinks. 

“Oh. Right.” His eyes drift down to Jack’s stomach. He touch his sides first, fingers inching upwards over his abs, then to his pecs, smoothing over the patch of dark hair that sprawls out from the middle of his chest. Jack watches his face for a moment, lips parting and Bitty looks up, raising his eyebrows.

“I was just wondering how… _far_ you wanted to go.”

“I— _well,_ ” Guilt flashes across Bitty’s features, and he looks away for a second. He’s chewing his lip when he glances back, looking like he’s about to wince. “If I said I packed condoms and lube, that wouldn't be too much of a shock…would it?”

Jack’s eyes widen, and he can’t help but gape. 

“...You'd be a little more forward-thinking than me,” he finally confesses as he recovers, scratching at his cheek, “But that's not necessarily a bad thing.”

Bitty nods along with his words, though there’s still a tinge of concern in his expression. Jack offers him a smile, and their fingers lace together as he presses a kiss to Bitty’s temple.

“It's not bad at all,” He murmurs against his skin, marking off his words with another kiss, “I’m just not sure how we’d do it, y’know, outside.”

“Oh!” Bitty brightens then, looking past Jack at the road they drove off of earlier--it's about ten yards back, and just about as dark as the night around them, “Well, if you're worried about anyone seeing, I doubt that'll be a problem. No one really drives by here, and even though they put on the big show, most folks are really just trying to avoid setting themselves on fire in their own backyards. And the weather hasn’t been too bad lately, so mosquitoes shouldn’t be too much of an issue, either.”

Jack chuckles softly, leaning in to kiss his cheek, “You're pretty set on it then, huh?”

“It would be nice to have a little more privacy,” Bitty tells him, his smile turning a little sad, “But honestly, when it comes to being arrested for indecent exposure, versus being caught by Coach at home, I think the latter might just be a little worse.”

“Bittle…” Jack opens his mouth, then closes it, exhaling through his nose, “...Sorry about that. I didn't mean to be insensitive.”

Bitty gives his head a small shake, “You're fine, Jack. But we're here now, so we should focus on more important things! Like getting comfortable, and you taking my virginity, and—”

Jack’s eyes widen for a second, and now it's his turn to interrupt. Bitty makes a small noise into his mouth, but he kisses him back eagerly, smiling against his lips.

“I—we should— _blankets,_ ” Jack chokes out, and Bitty can't help but make a fond noise at him. His cheeks are so pink, and the contrast with the light of his eyes is nothing short of handsome. He climbs out of his lap, albeit a little reluctantly and the two set about piling the heap of blankets into the middle of the truck bed.

“There,” Bitty sighs as he sits back on his heels, running a hand through his hair, “We won't be spending the night, of course, but it'll at least provide some comfort for whoever ends up on the bottom.

Jack nods, meeting his eyes, “Probably should decide that now, eh?”

“Oh, well, it's probably going to be me, so—”

“Does it have to be?” 

Jack interrupts Bitty so suddenly that it makes him gasp.

“Jack Zimmermann, are you saying what I think you're saying?”

Jack shrugs, giving him a sheepish grin, “Just putting it out there.”

“I can't believe my professional hockey player boyfriend is going to let me top him,” Bitty sniffs, clutching at his heart, “Honestly Jack, I'm touched.”

“You don’t become best friends with Shitty Knight and survive with your usual notions about sex intact.” Jack leans back on the blankets, folding his arms behind his head. 

“ _That,_ and then you start to fantasize about this frog that joins your team who happens to bake really nice pies, and. Well. Things happen.”

Bitty snorts, hiding flushed cheeks behind his hands. “Goodness.” He starts to leans over him, only to pause with a frown, huffing out a breath. Rising to his knees, he tugs his shorts down his thighs, then he sits back, letting them fall first to his ankles, and finally off his legs.

“Speaking of Shitty,” He tells Jack with a laugh, pressing another kiss to his lips, “Pants are no longer necessary.”

His fingers knot into the plaid-patterned makeshift pillow, and he swings a leg over Jack’s lap, choking out a breath when his kneecap hits aluminum. His face crumples, hand flying to his knee, and Jack wrinkles his nose, grin all teeth as his chest trembles with laughter.

“ _Bittay—oh non—mon amour—_ ” He hacks out a cough, though there are tears in his eyes, his shoulders still shaking as his fingers cover Bitty’s, holding his knee. “Shit, I don’t mean to laugh—are you okay?”

Bitty pouts, fighting the smile that tries to rise to his lips when Jack kisses him, “I’ll live, I guess. Thanks for your sympathy.”

“ _Pardon._ It was a little funny, though.”

“If you think using French will make me forgive you any more easily, you’re so wrong, Mister Zimmermann,” Bitty tsks under his breath before fitting his lips against Jack’s, “...Er, well, it’ll have less of an effect once I start 101 in August, at least.”

“Sure thing, Bits,” Jack laughs, kissing him back. He catches Bitty’s bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at with a heated look, and Bitty sighs into his mouth, fingers stroking over his short dark hair. 

They exchange soft kisses and bites until Bitty kisses down his jaw, then his neck, halfway to his shoulder until he stops, confident that whatever hickey he makes will be fully covered by any t-shirt. He kisses at his skin carefully, then more confidently, nipping and sucking, dragging his teeth over the spot. Jack inhales shakily, eyes fluttering closed, and he stretches to nose the side of Bitty’s head, close-shaven sides tickling his skin. His breath spills hot over the shell of Bitty’s ear, hands sliding under his armpits to rest atop the bumps of his spine. Bitty’s mouth is warm and wet on his skin, and his brows push together, grunting low in his throat.

“Mm, stings a little…”

Bitty pulls back, biting his lip with a smile, “That okay for now?”

Jack nods, running his fingers over the tingling patch of skin. “Feels like it.”

“Cool,” Bitty sits back, eyes traveling down the line of dark hair that trailing into Jack’s jeans. He clenches his fists, splays his fingers out, then finally makes a face, shrugging helplessly, “I have no idea what to do next.”

Jack laughs, “That’s fine. Just...whatever feels natural, I guess?”

Bitty nods, sucking his lip for a second before placing his hands on Jack’s abs, his muscles tensing briefly under his touch. Jack exhales, looking past Bitty at the sky. There’s a distant pop of fireworks, but far away enough that the color doesn’t quite reach his line of vision. The sky is dark, and stars sparkle out of the black at him. There’s more than he can count—more than he could ever see at night in Samwell, in Montreal. Bitty traces the lines of his muscles in quiet concentration. His hands are rough, callused from a few years’ worth of gripping hockey sticks, a recent venture into lifting weights more regularly, and two decades of scrubbing flour from his fingers, and it makes Jack shiver.

“Wow.”

Bitty cranes his head up at the sky with a smile, “Yeah, it’s...something else.”

He scoots back a little then, kneeling between Jack’s thighs. Jack’s eyes snaps back to him as he unbuttons his jeans, drawing his zipper down. Their fingers tangle together when Jack lifts his hips, helping Bitty pull his jeans off, and they meet each other’s eyes with shy smiles. Jack reaches for Bitty’s t-shirt next, the screen-printed Falconers’ logo somehow already a little faded, and he holds his arms out loosely in front of him, letting the fabric be pulled from his body.

“Boxers?” Jack offers innocently, hooking his thumbs into the elastic of his own, and Bitty swallows down a breath.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he laughs nervously, pulling his own briefs down, “I mean. It’s not like I _really_ looked, y’know? Your ass was enough of a distraction on its own, and of course Mama raised me to have manners, so…”

“Haha, you’re fine, Bits,” Jack laughs, “Though I can’t say I would’ve minded you looking too much.”

Bitty opens his mouth, then closes it, failing to find any words as his cheeks heat. His eyes drop to Jack’s pubic hair, dark curls that are soft to the touch, and he fits his fingers carefully around his shaft, giving him a gentle squeeze. Both of them go quiet as Bitty strokes Jack, Jack’s eyes turning to slits as he watches him, growing hard under his tender touches. He throbs in his palm, and Bitty looks up tentatively, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Jack sits up, meeting him with a kiss, and he takes Bitty in his hand, smiling against his lips when he gasps. His strokes are slow, yet firm, and he guides Bitty’s hand close, pressing it to the both of them. Bitty leans his forehead into his shoulder, making small, soft noises as Jack touches him, his own fingers matching his pace.

“You said you brought condoms, yeah?” Jack’s voice is hushed, tilting his lips down to his hair as his hand drops away.

Bitty lifts his head, blinking, cheeks flushed, “Oh...yeah,” He scans the blankets, perking up when he spots the arm of his blue hoodie sticking out, and drags it over, fishing a condom and two packets of lube from the pocket. 

“Here we go!” He offers an excited grin, showing them to Jack, “...To be honest, all the condoms I own are from my freshman dorm, but they haven’t reached their expiration date yet, so they should be good.”

Jack nods in agreement, “That’s okay—it’s better than nothing. I’ll have to remember to buy some for when you visit me in Providence.”

“That'd be nice,” Bitty beams, his voice quiet, and he closes his eyes, waiting for a second until Jack closes the gap between them. He nuzzles his cheek, and Bitty kisses the tip of his nose, pushing on his chest, leaning him back to the blankets.

“So, I'm more of a rom-com guy, and I've never really watched, y’know, _porn,_ ” Bitty admits, making a face, “But I think I still have a good sense of how this works.”

“I've never had sex before, either,” Jack smiles, letting his fingers lock with Bitty’s, “So, honestly, there’s no pressure.”

“ _Oh._ I had assumed…well, you never really did bring anyone back to your room, did you…”

“Hey. You were the only one I ever really wanted in there, but still, Bits. That hurts.”

“Sorry,” Bitty laughs, “Well, going from, um, personal experience...fingers would be a good place to start?”

Jack nods, teeth showing in his smile, “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Bitty swallows, nodding. His fingers hover over Jack’s abs again—they trail over the lines, then down into his pubic hair, scratching lazily at the curls. Down to cup his balls, then running them back up his shaft, watching the way Jack's brows draw together when he rubs at his slit with his thumb. He drags his fingers down his thighs, then up and around. Jack makes a low noise when Bitty squeezes his ass, pressing his hips down into his palms. Bitty squeezes again, pink tip of his tongue sticking out his mouth, rubbing at him, and Jack’s breath stutters in his throat.

“Softer than I thought,” Bitty murmurs, impressed, and Jack snorts, winking open an eye. 

“Really?”

“Well, you squat more than your body weight, so I just figured…”

“The fat from the pies had to go somewhere, huh?”

“And it went to the _best_ possible place. Thank goodness for that.”

Jack chuckles, reaching up to let his fingers trail over Bitty’s chest, “You've gained some muscle yourself, Bits. Not bad.”

“Yeah, well, my former captain had one hellish training regimen,” Bitty smiles, rolling his eyes, “That I did manage to finish to completion more than once, thank you very much.” 

He punctuates the scoff with another squeeze, and Jack’s laugh comes out airy and light, thighs folding in reflexively against Bitty’s sides. Bitty's hands slide back, gently pushing on the insides of Jack's knees, spreading his legs. Jack flicks his eyes down, open, a little vulnerable. He bites at his lip, and Bitty feels his toes curl, sliding against his ankle when he gives him another slow pump.

“Are you ready, Jack?” Bitty asks, nearly surprised at how quiet his voice goes, and Jack gives him a small nod, eyes bright.

The lube is cool on his fingertips. Bitty coats his fingers carefully, smiling as Jack runs his hands over his biceps. He trails his fingers down his inner thighs, breath stalling in his own chest as he feels Jack quiver under his touch. One hand fits against his hip, the other sliding underneath, pressing against him. 

Jack smiles, nodding in encouragement, and Bitty pushes his index finger in, humming softly. Jack squirms underneath him, biting his lip.

“Good, Bits, _good_...all the way, okay?”

“Okay!” Bitty grins, pushing in deeper. Jack takes a breath, opening his mouth to speak. But Bitty starts to rock his finger then, thrusting carefully, and his mouth goes slack with a small moan.

“ _Oh,_ ” Bitty cocks an eyebrow, curling his finger, “Making noise already, with only one finger?”

Jack wipes a hand over his face, covering his eyes, “I'll hold back if you're gonna chirp me about it.”

“Chirp you? Oh, no, honey—you are a _dream,_ ” Bitty practically moans himself, leaning in to kiss his neck, “Please, don't stop.”

Jack’s hand slides up into his hair, and he rolls his eyes with a grin. Then, he rocks his hips down onto Bitty’s hand, letting his brows draw together, lips parted. Bitty’s eyes widen in awe, but he grins back, pumping his finger in time with Jack. He presses a hand to his abs after a moment, waiting until Jack peeks at him to push another finger inside. 

Jack slows his movement, basking in the sensation of Bitty’s fingers, stroking and touching him with tenderness. He curls them, pressing deep with his knuckles. Jack moans, heel pressing into the small of Bitty’s back. 

“That's it, isn't it?”

Jack nods almost desperately, a crease forming in his brow. Bitty nips at his jaw while still scissoring his fingers. His hand slides from his hip to his shaft, giving him a few pumps, shivering in delight when he feels him wet at the tip.

“Bits,” Jack gasps, “We can—now, if you're ready.”

Bitty blinks, nodding slowly as he withdraws his fingers, “Sure. Okay.” He looks a little helplessly between the condom, slick fingers, and Jack’s face.

“Um. Help?”

A smile lifts at the corner of Jack's lips, and he takes a moment to sit up, thumb running over the flush on Bitty’s cheek. They kiss, Jack taking a hold of him, Bitty making a noise into his mouth. He gives him a few short strokes, then pulls away, picking up the condom. He rolls it down him with care, pausing to peck at his lips. He finds the open packet of lube and squeezes the rest into his palm, coating Bitty with it in a few more touches. Then, he lies back, letting Bitty crawl atop him, arms wrapping loosely around his neck. 

“Whoa, Bits, you're trembling. You okay?”

“Nervous. Excited,” Bitty grins, hoisting Jack’s hips a little higher, “More than okay.”

Jack smiles, “Okay.” He gives him a small nuzzle, fingers brushing at the nape of his neck. “Whenever you're ready.”

Bitty goes quiet. He smiles almost to himself as he ducks his head down to watch, getting a better grip on Jack's thighs. He goes slow, his own breath catching as he pushes in, and Jack hooks his legs around his hips to anchor him close. His hands travel up his body then, finally coming to a rest atop his shoulders. It's warm and tight and feels _good,_ and he presses close, the familiar, heavy heat of Georgian summer rising up in the air around them.

Pulling back is what really gets him, though, the friction making him hum out a moan, his grip on Jack tightening. Jack’s arms slide under his armpits to his back, fingers sliding over the top of his spine.

“Feel good, Bits?”

Bitty gulps, “Uh-huh.” He gives a tentative thrust, feeling Jack’s legs cinch a little tighter around him, “And you?”

Jack guides Bitty’s forehead to his, damp with sweat, “Just perfect.” He kisses him gently, “Keep going, just like this.”

Bitty sucks in a breath, “Of course, Jack.”

He kisses at the corner of his mouth, giving another rock of his hips, a little more confident now. Jack moans against his lips, nails grazing his back. Bitty settles into a gentle rhythm, sweat shining on his skin with the effort and the intimacy of it all, and he's forced to bite his lip, heat spiking low in his stomach whenever he pulls back from a thrust. His hands travel back down, one on Jack’s thigh, fingers of the other curling around him. He rubs at the tip, earning himself a whine from Jack, but he doesn’t want him to come just yet—for now, he just wants to hold him.

“Jack, you're so…” His lips part as he searches for the right word, but he resigns himself to a sigh, smiling, “I love you.” 

Jack gives him a lazy grin, “I know the feeling, Bits. I love you, too.” 

The minutes seem to stretch on longer with each thrust, heat building in his gut, but Bitty holds back, forcing himself to go slow. He wants this to last, but sure enough, his mind starts to go hazy, and he comes first, Jack rocking his hips to help him ride it out. His fingers stumble as he comes back to himself, but Jack is not too far behind, splashing hot over his fingers and his abs with a few careful squeezes. He cries out softly—something that sounds a little like his name, a little delirious French, back arching and toes curling with pleasure. Bitty rubs at his sides, pulling out with care as he recovers. Jack is flushed and looks a little dumbstruck, fingers roaming over his back. It's handsome, and endearing, and after Bitty peels off the condom, he cuddles up close, laying his head on his chest. 

“Wow. That was... _wow._ ”

“Pretty close to perfect, huh?”

Jack’s fingers curl around his shoulder, and Bitty feels him nod, pressing a kiss to his hair.

“Yeah, Bits. Pretty damn perfect.”

He lifts his fist, and Bitty laughs, knocking his knuckles with his own.

“Lord,” Bitty whispers after a moment, “I won’t be able to drive around and not think about tonight, will I?”

“Well,” Jack smiles, fingers running up and down Bitty’s sides, “I’ve always wanted a pickup myself, so we could always try to relive it sometime, if you want.”

“Oh, honey, you’ll have paparazzi following you around soon enough—we better not.”

“Eh, we’ll see.”


End file.
